


My Lady Peace

by lanalucy



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Anonymous Sex, BDSM, Community: bsg_kink, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, F/M, Flogging, Gift Fic, Minor Character Death, Sex Club, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6000007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanalucy/pseuds/lanalucy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2016 Kinky Valentine<br/>Prompt: Kinks you like for this pairing: Dominance/submission, anonymity, one night stands</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Lady Peace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [walbergr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/walbergr/gifts).



Lee fought the urge to scratch his head under the hood, which tensed his shoulders. He mentally berated himself. _Focus on something else, Lee_. He heard the inner hatch open; a robe swished toward him.

"Selene commands your presence." The voice came out of the air to his left. "Are you prepared?"

Lee held out his closed fist, offering it as a rest for her hand. Somehow, the archaic formal gesture seemed right for the moment.

His escort drew him through the inner hatch and to the right. The air was just on the too cool side; it wouldn't have bothered him if he'd been wearing anything. The muted murmur of people speaking sotto voce created a buzz he heard but didn't understand. His escort squeezed his hand and walked away. Lee stood in place, waiting. This was always the worst part. Waiting to be chosen, knowing there was no guarantee he would be.

From his right, he heard the progression of tops, and from his left, more subs in hoods being escorted in. A callused hand touched his shoulder, glided down his chest, fondled his balls, then passed to the left. He clenched his teeth, suppressing the shudder. His choices were limited to staying or leaving. The Selene Club rules were basic; tops did all the choosing, safe words and hard limits were observed.

Several more hands trailed over his biceps, one carded through the sparse hair on his chest, then he felt what he'd been waiting for - a band wrapped around his wrist. His partner didn't speak. Her skin was soft, her grip firm, unusual enough to capture his attention. His fingers swished through coarse hair as she guided his hand to her shoulder and escorted him across the cargo bay.

She ordered, "Down. On your knees," in a tone which indicated she was used to being obeyed outside the Selene Club.

He knelt. He knew the furnishings in this cargo bay were utilitarian - spare mattresses, stacks of rough blankets at the foot of each. It was just here for frakking, after all. Stress relief. No questions. Anonymous. He couldn't go _any_ where anymore without being recognized, but here, with the fitted hood, he kept his secrets well enough.

"What hard limits do you have?"

Lee swallowed. "Just you. I'm not ready to be shared."

"Anything else?"

"That's all."

"Safe word?"

He scrambled for an answer, and said, "Helena." The silence was ear-splitting. He wanted to rip off the hood, see what kept her quiet. Then...

"Agreed."

He nodded in acceptance. Her robe's hem slithered across his feet. The sound of bodies slapping against each other not three feet away drowned out the sibilant hiss of her whisper, and he jerked when she clamped her hand on his arm and shoved him toward the mattress, face first.

She gripped his shoulders. "Are you sure you're in the right place?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I didn't hear your instructions. I was-"

"Distracted? See that it doesn't happen again."

"Of course."

She patted his head, ran her hands down his back, squeezed his ass. He heard leather sliding against leather, then the whoosh of it, and was unsurprised when the flogger struck his back.

She waited a moment, then asked, "Good?"

"Green." _Too green._ "Can you hit harder?" The words hadn't even left his mouth before his brain went to yellow alert. He tensed, waiting for her to make him pay for his gaffe.

The flogger struck again, two or three times, with increasing velocity, then a pause, and when it struck again, Lee's vision nearly whited out. That _couldn't_ have been her.

"Better?"

He deserved the sarcasm. He flexed everything, then gritted out, "Green."

"Oh, good."

She was laughing at him. Even at a whisper, he could hear the amusement in her voice.

_THWACK!_

_THWACK!_

_THWACK!_

Each blow landed in a different place, leaving vibration and a spreading warmth behind. It had to be a man swinging the flogger; she'd agreed not to share him, but that had nothing to do with flogging him. He relaxed and let himself go. He could forget about the disappointed look on Dee's face when he left her alone in her rack. Forget about the grate of his father's voice when he questioned every frakking order Lee gave on Peg. Forget about the glare of his XO when she reported Kara's continuing insubordination. Just forget. He was nobody here, just the way he liked it, the way he needed it.

The blows struck harder, on his ass, his thighs, across his shoulders, and his mind scattered, relaxed into the comfort of a good beating. Each blow was one more critical conversation, another moment of the stress of command melting away. Every strike cleared his head a little more until all that existed was this moment. His body. The flogger. 

Peace. 

There was a pause - was she thanking her helper? All he could hear were words too soft to be intelligible.

Her robe was cool on his back when she leaned over him, her hands tracing his ribs, gripping his hips. "On your back."

He pulled himself onto the bed and lay on his back. The rough mattress scored his skin, the burn in direct contrast to the comforting warmth of her body astride him. The silky softness of her robe surrounded him, muffling the sounds of the rest of the room, right on the edge of too much across his cock.

He could smell her just before she settled on his chest, her knees digging in on either side of his head, rubbing against the material of the hood.

He bent his elbows, skimming his palms under the robe and up her back, then settling on her ass, pulling her closer. She scooted forward enough he could get to her, but he'd have to work harder to get her off.

"Until I tell you to stop."

_Yes, Mistress._ He didn't need to say the words. His tongue answered for him. She was salty, tangy, wet. He buried his nose as far as it would go into her, catching at her folds with his lips, nipping and pulling. She was responsive; his cheeks were coated within moments.

He left his mind on auto-pilot, let his body take over again here. His tongue flicked and drilled, his lips pulled and sucked, his nose caught her clit when he turned his head just right. He felt the groan rumble through her torso when he nipped at her clit and he squeezed her thighs. He held on harder, relishing the tight muscles under his hands, the harsh, increasingly staccato rhythm of her breath. She seized above him, her thighs closing around his head, her fingers clamping around his hands.

He waited for her to relax, to give her next order. She shifted herself lower, bending to give him a perfunctory kiss. "That wasn't much of a challenge, was it?"

He froze. There weren't many right ways to answer that. "If you were disappointed, I can do better."

She chuckled, low and sultry. "Perhaps later. What do you need now?"

"Whatever pleases you."

Her voice clipped out, "No. What do _you_ want?"

Gods. He couldn't decide.

"It's not supposed to be a difficult question." There was pique in her voice, and she began moving toward the edge of the mattress.

"Please." He pressed his fingers in to keep her where she was.

"Please what?"

He could feel stress tightening everything up again. He needed more. "Please...anything. Just don't leave," Lee begged.

"You'll have to behave."

Lee nodded.

"Lie here. On your back. Don't move. Think about what you've done to displease me."

That was as good as he was going to get. He couldn't feel her now, but he made himself ignore the void of his sudden aloneness and focused on staying still and relaxed.

"Good. No squirming or talking."

It seemed like both hours and only seconds had passed when her fingers were on his hip, tracing the muscles down toward his cock without actually touching it. His increasing arousal was met with a small sigh.

"I guess you're ready, then?"

"Yes."

"Ready for what?"

He answered automatically, "Anyth-" 

She 'tsk'ed.

"I want to come. Please."

"Good." Her fingers touched more of his skin, increasing pressure and circling the skin above his erection.

Just about the time he felt like begging again, her hand surrounded him, slow and steady, tight, and he released the last bit of tension he'd been holding on to. She straddled his thighs, bent forward, and he felt their breath mingling. She tasted like canned air, shipboard rations, and a touch of fennel. Not even a hint of cigar or alcohol. Not Kara, then, probably not any of his pilots. Thank gods.

***}{***

Kendra looked over the subs waiting to play. She was ready to kill; it had been the worst frakking day.

Someone caught her eye, but it would be rude to cut ahead. When it was her turn to look him over, she mentally pulled a victory fist. He was solid. Cut. He actually reminded her of Commander Adama, but if the man she'd been serving under discovered Selene, he'd shut it right down. She could pretend, though. Wasn't her relentless need to hit something mostly his fault, anyway? She smiled.

She'd picked out the flogger earlier and left it on the rack she'd use. She picked it up and caressed her cheek with it as she listened to him say his only limit was not being shared. Beating him sounded perfect right now. She wondered how his skin would take marks, whether he'd see them in the mirror in a day or two and think about her.

His safeword stopped her dead. _Frak! Does he know who I am?_ She stood in silence a moment longer. Even if he did know, anonymity was a given, a requirement. "Agreed."

Her first few swings were solid, but she wanted to push him. She motioned over one of the floaters, handing him the flogger.

The sound of the first strike rang in her ears. She could see the difference in her partner's body. She asked anyway, and almost laughed out loud when he forced out, "Green."

Color bloomed all over his back and legs and ass, patterns of rose and white connecting his freckles. Gods, this was good. With each blow, the tension in his shoulders faded.

When he looked like he might melt into the rack, she motioned for the floater to stop.

Her partner's wiggle as he settled into the mattress was oddly dissonant, but the effects of the beating were obvious. His mouth hung open, his penis flush with blood, getting harder even as she watched. Just looking at him was arousing.

She straddled his chest, leaned into his hands on her back and ass, but stopped before he pulled her too close. She wanted him to work for this - it was already going to be too easy to make her come. The first sideways flick of his tongue stopped her breath. She felt her orgasm beginning. Too soon. Gods. Her knees clamped around his head, her hands found his on her thighs, and her climax shivered through her. Delicious. She'd remember this one.

She waited for her pulse to return to some semblance of normal, kissed him without lingering, and asked what he wanted. He hedged, and she pretended to be angry, began to move away from him. The renewed tension in his shoulders and his grasping fingers caught her off guard. Was he _afraid_?

It was worth exploring. She made him wait. He probably had no idea how his body turned toward hers, seeking the confirmation she wouldn't give that she was still here. When she couldn't keep herself from touching him any longer, she traced lightly over his stomach, absorbing the immediacy of his attention. She draped herself over him again, moved in to kiss him, but teasing him by holding just out of reach. His breath was clean. When she let her tongue meet his, his was strong, and tasted more of her than anything else.

She moved over him, slow, deliberate, didn't sink down over his cock until he groaned under his breath. When she did, it was perfect.

"I'm going to give you what you want, but you have to get me off again first." She squeezed herself around him, smiled at his whimper, watched his fingers move down her torso to her clit.

_Oh_. It was going to be too fast again. 

He was worth a repeat performance. 

***}{*** 

Weeks later, when Lee'd been to Selene several more times without running into his favorite even once, it occurred to him there was a logical reason for it. 

Since the completion of her mission, he'd missed his XO's stern exterior, the competent way she'd corralled the crew, but right now, for just a moment, thinking about the perfection of that first time, the easiness of their few times together, he grieved for Kendra Shaw. 

FINIS 

**Author's Note:**

> Selene is a moon goddess, known for promiscuity. She was the silent light in the sky.
> 
> The club Selene existed before the attacks, much like The Dance in Unfinished Business, except that it wasn't "officially" sanctioned. Post-attacks, the club has opened to include non-Fleet personnel, and membership is anonymous and word-of-mouth.
> 
> When a country or society is at war, its people tend to become more jaded, more prone to wild behavior, perhaps in an attempt to forget the hardships and loss in their mundane lives. Sometimes, people long for a place where they can indulge these urges without fear of consequences. In this fic, Selene is such a place. 
> 
> Tops wear robes and small masks to cover their eyes. Subs wear full hoods, with only their nose and mouth uncovered, and nothing else. 
> 
> Selene is in an unused cargo bay, and I have not specified whether it's on a Fleet ship or a civilian one. However, it is a cargo bay with an airlock. In this airlock, the lighting is disabled, to prevent any accidental outing, and newly arrived subs undress and don their hoods before being escorted in.
> 
> All communication inside Selene is in whispers or low voices. A distinctive voice or accent is a dead giveaway, after all. Lighting is very low, as it would be in quarters during the overnight shift when people are sleeping.
> 
> BSG fandom has wonderful fandom-wide 'universes', such as plaid_slytherin's **Guest House** , or fragrantwoods' **Galen's Gift Emporium**. I'm happy to open **Selene** to anyone in the fandom whose characters want to visit.


End file.
